


Show Off

by TheAsexualofSpades



Series: Quarantine Drabbles [34]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Embarrassed Peter Parker, Fluff, Gen, Justin Hammer is an Asshole, Peter is a genius, Quantum Mechanics, Technobabble, and they're gonna make sure everyone knows, hah yes i can tag that, he's such a soft boi but he's so smart, smart people things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:22:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23876872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAsexualofSpades/pseuds/TheAsexualofSpades
Summary: Peter doesn't want to go to the big fancy party with the Avengers. He's afraid he'll just feel out of place the whole time. Of course, the rest of the team knows better, and they're gonna show him so.It's a good thing Peter doesn't get embarrassed easily, right?Hmmm...
Relationships: Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Peter Parker & Bruce Banner, Peter Parker & Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker & Clint Barton, Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Sam Wilson, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Quarantine Drabbles [34]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1677655
Comments: 32
Kudos: 755
Collections: sHOOKETH's all time favorites





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**Author's Note:**

> this got so much longer than I thought it would good god. 
> 
> also in regards to the argument sam and bucky have there is one correct answer and you can fight me in the comments. 
> 
> also yes there is a musical theater reference i am in fact a nerd

Fandom: Marvel (MCU)

Prompt: “Your cuteness is making everyone stare, stop it.”

* * *

“No,” Peter says firmly, slamming his large textbook shut.

“Sorry, Pete,” Tony says, flicking the invitation across Peter’s forehead, “wasn’t really a question.”

“Come on!” Peter waves Tony away, leaning back in his chair, “I don’t know what to do at any of these parties! I’m not some—some—“

“Rich, arrogant, pompous asshole?”

“Yeah! Wait—“

Tony waves a hand, cutting Peter off. “Don’t sweat it kid. I know you’re not. And yeah, most of the people at these things are like that. But not all of them.”

Peter sighs. This isn’t the first time Tony’s invited him to one of these big fancy galas or whatever the hell he’s supposed to call them. Every time Peter’s managed to get out of it, claiming homework or tiredness or even patrol. This time, though, it doesn’t look like any of those will work.

“Earth to Spider-ling.”

Peter catches the wadded up paper Tony throws at him.

“Look,” Tony says, leaning over and resting a hand on Peter’s shoulder, “can you tell me why you really don’t wanna go?”

“I just…it’s…” He grips the edge of the table in frustration.

“Take your time.”

“I’m not rich. I don’t have money. I’m not some incredible anything. It feels wrong.”

“You _are_ incredible, Pete,” comes the gentle correction, “and yeah, I’d be lying if I didn’t want to show you off a little. But that doesn’t have to be all it is. Yeah, there’s gonna be some absolute assholes, but there are gonna be scientists. Engineers. More people like you.”

Peter curls his arms around himself.

“Why don’t you do what Bruce does?” Tony leans against the desk. “He hangs out with some of the _actual_ smart people and when he’s tired we leave.”

“Yeah, but they _know_ Bruce.”

“He’s gonna be there, you just stick by him.”

Peter looks up. “Wait, he is?”

Tony gives him a funny look. “Kid, did you _read_ the invitation?”

_…no…I just saw fancy calligraphy and paper more expensive than my house and thought ‘fuck that shit.’_

Peter retrieves the invitation and scans it.

‘The Annual Superhero Benefit Ball: A Venue for Heroes of all Walks of Life.’

“So…”

“Everyone’s going, Pete,” Tony says, “you, me, Bruce, Nat, Steve, you name ‘em. It won’t just be you. You’ll have us all night.”

Peter runs his finger over the word ‘hero’ embossed on the paper.

“And if you dare say you’re not a hero I’m grounding you.”

A smile tugs at the corners of Peter’s mouth.

“Okay,” he sighs, admitting defeat, “I’ll go.”

“Great.” Tony claps him on the shoulder. “Now get back to work.”

“It’s your fault I stopped working in the first place!”

“Can’t hear you over all the work you’re supposed to be doing!”

* * *

“Dr. Banner,” Peter mutters, tugging on the cuffs of his jacket as they walk up to the entrance, “are you sure this is fine?”

“Yeah, Peter,” Bruce says, smiling, “I’m happy to have you follow me around all night.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“Don’t sweat it.” Bruce glances around and leans forward to mutter: “I’ll never understand how Tony lasts through these things. I’m exhausted the minute I step into the room.”

“I think he feeds on the energy of it,” Petter mutters back.

“We gotta figure out how to make that energy useful.” Bruce puts his hand to his chin. “We could power the world off it.”

Peter giggles. Bruce tosses him a wink as they near the door. Tony, of course, is at the front, the dark burgundy of his suit offsetting the cream of Pepper’s gown. The two of them look like royalty as they pass under the lights. Steve, Bucky, and Sam follow next, black suits making them look almost like bodyguards. Peter stifles a chuckle as they pass the actual security. Next to the Captains, the guards look like mini-bosses you have to clear to get to the main fight.

_Not a bad analogy,_ Peter thinks as he nods to the guards. The woman running the check-in gives him a smile as he clips his badge on with shaking fingers.

“First time at one of these things?” She keeps her voice down as she helps him fix the badge. At Peter’s hesitant nod, she gives his hand a quick squeeze. “Don’t worry, sweetie, you’ll be alright. Just find someone interesting to talk to and the whole night will go past in a breeze.”

“Thanks,” Peter mumbles as he turns to keep up with Bruce.

“Don’t worry, Baby Spider.” He turns to see Natasha reaching to link their arms with a smile. “If anyone bothers you, you let me know, hmm?”

“You act like Stark isn’t gonna be hovering protectively the whole time,” Clint snickers from behind her. The two of them decked out in glorious shades of red and purple, walk on either side of Peter as they enter the main ballroom.

Peter almost stops dead, looking around him in amazement.

The ceiling is covered with rich, golden designs, curving elegantly around the chandelier fixtures. The room sweeps in a circle, tables dotted throughout the floor, covered with ebony tablecloths and champagne glasses glittering in the light. Everywhere he looks he sees tailored suits, luxurious gowns, watches and jewelry that could pay back his student loans thousand times over.

He doesn’t belong here.

“Easy, Baby Spider,” Natasha says, holding him firm when he tries to back out of the door, “don’t you go anywhere.”

“I don’t—I can’t—“

“Shh,” she murmurs, fingers lacing through his, “take a deep breath for me.”

He does, waves and waves of expensive colognes and perfumes assaulting his airways. Clint ushers them safely to the side of the doorway, placing himself between them and the rest of the room. Something about the way he’s standing helps Peter breathe a little easier. Natasha’s holding him. He can trust Natasha. And as Tony said, they’re all here. He just has to stick by them and he’ll be okay.

Natasha gives him a nod and a gentle push when he says he’ll be okay now. Squaring his shoulders, Peter looks around for Bruce. The man hasn’t gone far; at one of the nearer tables is Dr. Glaswey, one of the other scientists he’s worked with in the past. Bruce waves him over.

“Ah, Mr. Parker!” Dr. Glaswey shakes his hand, the calluses on the man’s hand making Peter wince. “So good to see you again.”

“Hi, Dr. Glaswey.” What the hell is Peter supposed to do with his hands now? “Uh, how’s it going?”

“Well, we’re trying to figure out where the rest of the universe is, realizing that’s an impossible question to answer when we don’t know what it’s made out of, and coming to the conclusion that it might all be meaningless.” Dr. Glaswey winks. “Other than that, my dog thinks the kitchen cabinet is haunted.”

“Hector?” Peter perks up at the sound of the dog’s name. “How is he?”

“Apart from thinking that the cabinet is haunted? Just dandy.”

“That’s good.”

Dr. Glaswey takes a swig of his champagne. “Enough about me. Dr. Banner tells me you’ve been doing some very impressive work with regards to the nature of inter dimensional travel. Tell me about that.”

“What?” Peter _really_ wants to know what the fuck to do with his hands. Get a glass of water, let’s try that. “I, uh, it’s not really mine, I just—“

“Come on, Pete,” Bruce says, leaning against the table, “you’re the one who suggested we alter the matrix to include the possibilities of emergent gravity with regards to general relativity.”

“Well yeah, because that meant we didn’t have to try and program variables for dark energy or narrow it down between the—“

Peter snaps his mouth shut but it’s too late. Dr. Glaswey looks at him expectantly.

“…different possibilities for the shape of the universe.”

Bruce chuckles into his own glass. Peter glares at him. Traitor.

“So what implications does emergent gravity have for the nature of time in your experiments?” Dr. Glaswey asks. “Come on, we’ve got to be at this thing for at least another three hours, give me some way to pass it, and it’s not like I can just get in a light-speed capable ship.”

He squints at Peter. “Unless you and Stark are hiding one of those too?”

Peter giggles. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.”

Dr. Glaswey curses, drinking to hide his smile. “Well, then why don’t you make it up to me by answering my other question, hmm?”

The doctor is right, talking about this stuff is easier than trying to spend the time hiding in a corner and _definitely_ easier than figuring out what to do with his hands without talking. Peter explains how the Asgardian view of dimensions and their movements links to the effects of gravitational weight in general relativity and how this affects the use of time in their calculations, pausing when Dr. Glaswey has questions or hiding his blush when either doctor compliments his work.

“I’ll say this kid,” Dr. Glaswey chuckles when Peter has to take a hearty sip of water in an effort to get rid of the heat rushing to his face, “if you keep going the way you’re going, you’re gonna have to get a lot better at accepting compliments.”

“He’s adorable, though, isn’t he?”

Peter doesn’t spit water all of the table but it’s fucking close.

“Dr. Banner!”

“What?” Bruce blinks innocently up at him. “Young spitfire like you, getting all starry eyed at science and math the way you do? It’s like watching a kid in a candy store.”

“You’ve got a great future, Peter,” Dr. Glaswey agrees despite Peter’s bright red face, “we’re all excited.”

Peter resolutely takes another sip of water because what the _fuck_ is he supposed to say to that, hoping in vain that it’ll somehow draw the blood away from his flaming face.

“Hey, Parker!”

They look to see Sam waving at them from across the room.

“Get yourself over here!”

Muttering a quick goodbye to Dr. Glaswey, Peter scurries over, dodging suits and dresses as he goes, careful not to spill his water. Sam draws him into the little group along with five other people Peter doesn’t recognize.

“Now,” Sam says once everyone’s shuffled so Peter fits comfortably in the circle, “please help me explain that the obvious answer to who wins in a fight between the Millennium Falcon and the USS Entership—“

“Enter _prise,_ ” Bucky interrupts from the other side of the circle.

“Enter-whatever-the-hell-it-is,” Sam finishes, glaring at Bucky, “is the Falcon.”

Peter blinks. “How—what—why are you guys talking about this?”

“The hell you mean, Parker?” Sam folds his arms. “You sayin’ it ain’t worth talking about?”

“Honestly,” Steve pipes up from the corner, “I don’t know how we got here either.”

“Uh—“

One of the other men in the circle explains: “we were discussing the value of role models in media and Dave over there—“ a man Peter assumes is Dave waves—“started talking about Star Wars.”

“Only ‘cause Henry—“ the man standing on Peter’s other side scoffs— “started off with the whole thing about absolute good versus absolute evil.”

“Wait, isn’t the point of Star Wars that neither of those things exists?”

Dave opens his arms. “See, this kid gets it.”

“Okay hang on—“

“Hey! No going off topic!” Sam gestures back at Peter. “Come on, Parker, back me up here.”

Peter shakes his head to clear it. “Why _do_ you think it’s the Falcon?”

“‘Cause he’s swayed by anything with the same name as him,” Bucky offers.

Sam glares at him. “Because the Falcon is designed to be a smuggler ship. Flies underneath the radar. Lightweight weapons. Equipped for stealth and efficiency. Not some over glorified shiny pancake.”

“The Falcon literally looks like a pancake someone couldn’t take out properly.”

“You take that back!”

“Peter, right?” One of the women standing next to Steve cuts through the bickering. “Peter Parker?”

“Uh, yes, yes ma’am.”

“Call me Sarah,” the woman— _Sarah_ says, “I understand you’re one of the main engineers that work on the Avengers’ technology.”

Valiantly ignoring the blood rushing to his face, Peter nods. Sarah smiles encouragingly. “Maybe then _you_ can understand that the capabilities of an official military vessel would far outweigh any type of firepower a _smuggler_ ship would have.”

“Wait, you’re Peter Parker?”

Peter glances at Dave. “…yeah?”

Dave whistles. “Damn, I thought you’d be older. What with how these guys go on about your tech.”

“Don’t embarrass the kid,” Henry laughs.

“No, do embarrass the kid,” Steve says, ignoring the scowl Peter sends his way. “Peter’s one the sharpest minds I’ve ever met.”

“You’re the one who prototyped the new turbines for the Stark drones, aren’t you?” Another man speaks up. Peter squints to make out ‘Gary Johnson’ on his name tag. “Not to mention the upgrades to the Avengers’ suits.”

“I, uh…” Peter trails off, looking at the expectant faces. “…yeah that was me.”

“Don’t be so modest,” Steve grins, “you’ve got more than just that.”

“Steve!”

“What? You do!”

Peter looks to Bucky for help but he just smiles, clearly not about to bail Peter out. “Steve’s right, kid, you’ve done the drones, the shields, my arm, the arc reactor tests—“

“Oh, you’re the one who submitted the reactor evals,” Henry supplies, “those were _great,_ kid. How’d you manage to account for the quantum fluctuations?”

Peter mumbles into his water.

“Huh? Speak up, Parker, we can’t hear you.”

Peter swats at Sam who doesn’t even react.

“Here,” Henry says, passing Peter a business card, “give me a call. We can talk about it later.”

“Take mine too.”

“And mine.”

Peter dazedly collects the business cards, not even reading the writing on any of them, tucking them into his pocket and almost draining his cup of water.

“Don’t think that’s gonna get you out of answering the question, Peter.”

The question? What question? Peter racks his brain until he sees Bucky glaring at Sam again. Oh right.

“Why would they fight?”

“What?”

Peter shrugs. “I don’t think they’d be fighting. The Enterprise is an exploration ship first and foremost. They’re not about to rush into battle. And, honestly, the Falcon doesn’t pose much of a threat.”

“Hah!”

“He ain’t exactly agreeing with you either.”

Peter can’t deny the looks Bucky and Sam send him though. They do this sometimes, get into play fights to distract him. He gives them a small smile. They nod back.

“I like that answer,” Dave says, raising his glass in a mock toast, “that it doesn’t have to be a fight.”

“Here here.”

Peter meekly goes to take another sip but his lips meet only air. He excuses himself to refill the glass when Steve catches him by the elbow.

“Hey,” he says, turning away from the rest of the group to offer them a little privacy, “are you doing okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

“You let us know if you’re not, okay?”

Peter huffs. “You didn’t seem to have a problem putting me on the spot a few minutes ago.”

Steve doesn’t have the decency to look even the _slightest_ bit apologetic, it seems. “If we can get you talking about something you’re interested in, you won’t spend as long overthinking everything.”

He’s right, but Peter doesn’t have to like it.

“Come on, Peter,” Steve grins, giving his shoulder a light push, “we have to embarrass you a little.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yeah, we kinda do.” Steve gives Peter’s hand a quick squeeze. “You’re a genius, kid, It’s only fair to the rest of us if we get a glimpse of it.”

And with that, Steve heads back to the group, rejoining whatever conversation is going on now. Peter shakes his head, refilling the glass and taking a few swigs and refilling it again.

“Oh, there you are.”

Pepper glides up to Peter at the fountain, looking every bit the queen she is.

“Hi, Pepper.”

“How are you doing, sweetie, everything okay?”

Peter nods. “It’s a lot.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Pepper glances around. “Honestly, I’m not sure how many more people here I can talk to.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve seen them all already vying for Tony’s attention—“ Pepper gestures over her shoulder to the main crowd of people, Tony likely at the center— “and to be honest, none of them really want anything other than that.”

“None of the other business people know that _you’re_ the one they need to convince?”

Pepper gives him a slight smile. “The smart ones have.”

Peter chuckles. He _loves_ Pepper.

“Oh, Veronica, over here!”

Another woman comes over to join them. Peter shrinks a little at the aura of the two in front of him. Veronica smiles a little, her chin raised high and posture impeccable.

“Peter, this is Veronica Elliot. She runs the Gyseger Foundation.”

“The clean energy non-profit!” Peter’s mouth drops open. “Oh, wow, uh, it’s an honor, ma’am, I, uh, really admire the work you do.”

Veronica’s eyes flick to Pepper and back. “Thank you,” she begins, looking at Peter’s name tag, “Mr…?”

“Uh, Parker,” Peter stutters, freeing his hand, “Peter Parker.”

“Peter Parker?” Veronica’s smile warms, her handshake firm. “Pepper talks about you often.”

“…she does?”

“Of course I do, Peter,” Pepper smiles, “you’re one of the most promising hires we’ve made in decades.”

“She speaks of your resourcefulness and dedication to the accessibility of your designs,” Veronica continues, “I admire _your_ work as well.”

Peter wipes his hands on his trousers, desperately hoping that handshake wasn’t as sweaty as he thought it was. “Um, thank you, ma’am, that means a lot to me.”

“Tell me,” Veronica says, taking a glass and pouring herself a drink, “as a young person, what do you think are the biggest gaps in accessible clean technology for your generation?”

Peter would be lying if he said he hadn’t practiced this speech over and over in the mirror or in his head to pitch to Mr. Stark or, in his wildest dreams, the CEO of the Gyseger Foundation. He’s sure he stutters too much and there’s a few too many fillers in his sentences but he finishes. Veronica looks...impressed?

“Well, I see you’ve not been exaggerating to me, Pepper.”

“Do I ever?”

“No, you don’t,” Veronica smiles. “We’ll have to set up a meeting, Mr. Parker, to discuss this further.”

“I, uh, sure. Yeah. I’d love to.”

“Perfect. I’ll be in touch.”

Peter watches the woman walk away, still star-struck. Pepper taps his shoulder, grinning.

“You did great. I think she likes you.”

“R-really?”

“Really.” Pepper reaches out to tap his cheek. “Even with the blush.”

Her laugh rings in his ears as Peter buries his face in his hands. Oh god, he just spoke to _Veronica Elliot_ with a bright red face.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure she won’t hold it against you.”

“Easy for you to say,” Peter groans. “Is everyone just out to embarrass me tonight?”

“Not everyone,” Pepper says, “I’m pretty sure Clint and Natasha are competing over how many pranks they can play on the snobs here.”

“Uh-huh.”

Pepper leans in to give Peter a quick hug. “You know we love you, Peter.”

“I know.”

“I’m guessing Tony hasn’t had the chance, yet, hmm?”

Peter’s stomach drops. No, no Tony has not. If he thought this embarrassment was bad…

“Don’t look so scared, Peter,” Pepper admonishes, “you know Tony.”

“Yes, I do, that’s why I’m scared.”

“Hey, Pete!”

Nope. He didn’t hear that.

“Peter Parker, get over here!”

Can you guys hear something? Peter can’t.

“Peter Benjamin Parker, so help me—“

“Wait, when did he learn my middle name?” Peter mumbles to Pepper. She shrugs.

“—I know you can hear me.”

Peter’s head drops back and he groans. _Let’s just get this over with._

He turns around, making sure his cup is full of excuse-not-to-talk-liquid, and stares at Tony, in the middle of a throng of people clamoring for his attention. The man doesn’t even blink, waving Peter over impatiently.

“They’re asking about the deadline for the new batch of prototypes.” Tony gestures to a team of intimidating men in navy suits. “Told ‘em to talk to the guy in charge.”

“… _you’re_ the guy in charge.”

Tony shrugs. “Not of that project.” He pushes Peter lightly towards the others. “Go for it.”

“Wait, but—“

“Now, Anthony,” another voice says, “that’s not very nice, is it?”

Peter frowns, looking around to try and pinpoint who that was. No one calls Tony ‘Anthony,’ except for—

“Hey, Hammer, I think you’ve got the wrong conversation.” Tony waves his hand toward another part of the room. “The ‘companies-still-exploiting-fossil-fuels’ group is that way.”

Hammer laughs, sauntering forward with his hands in his pockets. “Alright, I’ll take that one. Not all of us can afford to run our businesses on nightlights in our chest, right?”

Peter’s mouth tightens when Hammer laughs expectantly at the crowd’s reaction to his joke. He notices Tony’s shoulders bristle.

“But come on, Anthony, pawning off some meeting to a poor intern?” Hammer tuts disapprovingly. “That’s not very sportsmanlike of you, is it?”

“You know maybe if you spent less time worrying about how I run my projects,” Tony says, “you wouldn’t be losing so many of your contracts to me.”

Peter chuckles. _You tell ‘em, Mr. Stark._

“You and I know it’s not about that,” Hammer continues and _god_ Peter just wants him to go away, “it’s about taking credit for the work that others are doing.”

“Did you not just hear me say this wasn’t my project?”

“At least you’re admitting it.”

_And you know what that’s enough bullshit._

“Hey,” Peter calls, stepping forward, “if you’ve got a problem with Mr. Stark or this project, you can talk to me.”

Hammer gives him a once-over. “Cool your jets, junior,” he chuckles, “this is way above your pay grade.”

“You son of a—“

Peter holds his hand out, stepping in front of Tony. “It’s not, actually above my pay grade. I am the supervisor of this project and the prototypes are my designs. I am the most qualified person to answer any questions about them.”

“Don’t make me laugh, kid,” Hammer snorts, “you’re barely old enough to be here.”

“And yet,” Peter says, spreading his hands, “here I am.”

Hammer looks him over again, putting his hands on his hips. At that moment, he looks an awful lot like Flash.

“Alright kid,” he sneers, “if you’re so smart, tell me how you’ve managed to incorporate the tracker without compromising the security over the EM waves.”

Peter smiles. “Quantum cryptography.”

“That’s a myth,” Hammer scoffs.

“No, it’s not,” Peter says calmly, “and the balance of the photons through an arc-reactor polarizer makes it easily reproducible and portable.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

Peter shrugs. “It’s not really my concern if you believe it or not. It’s true.”

“You’re making it up!”

“Why would I do that? I don’t need to convince _you._ You’re not the client.”

Hammer huffs and puffs something about ‘the integrity of the development community.’

“You…do realize Stark Tech stopped the weapons manufacturing years ago right? You guys aren’t even in the same community anymore.”

“He’s right,” Tony pipes up, “you offered a weapon. That’s not what they wanted. Being the boss doesn’t mean you have to have all the answers, just the brains to recognize the right one when you hear it.”

He gives Hammer a look. “Or any brains at all.”

“You expect me to believe,” Hammer splutters, “that you’ve distanced yourself from weapons altogether?”

Peter rolls his eyes. “For the hundredth time, yes.”

“And what the hell do you call the Iron Man suit?”

Peter smirks. “Look around. What do you think it is?” He gestures at the room around them. “A hero.”

A smattering of applause shocks him. Oh, oh shit, he’s standing in the middle of a large group of people, _including the clients,_ oh fuck…

Hammer’s gone, vanished into the midst of everybody else swarming around them, but Peter’s not paying attention. He got so caught up in defending his work that he forgot where he was. Oh god, no, what has he done, that was _so_ unprofessional…

“Kid.” Something taps his shoulder. “ _Peter._ ”

He doesn’t pay attention. No, what has he done…

“Your cuteness is making everyone stare, stop it.”

A gentle finger raises his chin. Tony stares down at him, pride and concern glittering in his eyes. Peter swallows, the tips of his ears burning like they’re about to fall off.

“I’m…” Peter’s words won’t come out as anything above a whisper. “I’m sorry, Mr. Stark.”

“Sorry? What for?”

Peter’s hands tighten on the glass of water, desperately pressed against the coolness of the drink. “That. Embarrassing you like that.”

“Peter,” Tony says, “ _you’re_ the only one embarrassed right now. Well, you and Hammer.”

“But I—“

“That,” Tony interrupts, “was the best goddamn thing I’ve seen all day. You stood up for yourself in front of a bunch of people and told some rich, pompous asshole where to stick it.”

“It was unprofessional,” Peter mutters.

“He started it.” Tony strokes his thumb over Peter’s burning cheek. “Plus, _I_ knew you had it covered.”

“You…” Peter’s eyes widen as realization dawns. “You set that up!”

Tony raises his hands. “I wanted you to show off for just the clients. I didn’t expect Hammer to show up and I _definitely_ didn’t expect you to go off on him. Not that I regret it.”

“I hate you,” Peter mumbles.

“No you don’t,” Tony says, pulling him into a quick hug, “you’re amazing.”

Peter catches sight of Hammer’s head heading out of the room. “..it _was_ kinda fun.”

“That’s the spirit. Now come on, you’ve got more people to talk to.”

Peter glances around. The room doesn’t seem so full anymore. He catches sight of Sam, Steve, and Bucky. They wave. Natasha and Clint wink at him from separate corners. Bruce gives him a lazy two-fingered salute from the table he left him at.

Peter sets his drink down on a table and grins at Tony.

“Let’s go.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come yell at me on tumblr while we're all in quarantine
> 
> https://a-small-batch-of-dragons.tumblr.com/


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